


Father's Footsteps

by eternallydaydreaming



Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (TV 2012)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-02
Updated: 2016-09-02
Packaged: 2018-08-12 12:08:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7934071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eternallydaydreaming/pseuds/eternallydaydreaming
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He fought hard to honor Shen's memory but facing a crossroads he must decide whether he would keep a promise or ask for her forgiveness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Father's Footsteps

A/N: Written for Tumblr’s TMNT FlashFic’s with the theme of “beginnings.” Hope you all enjoy. It was a fic that I did not expect to write.

* * *

Father’s Footsteps

_Ninjas have no more place in this world!... This is no life for Miwa._

A sorrowful sigh dragged out through his nostrils. The hot, heavy air brushed against his lips though he could only halfway feel the sensation. While it had been six years since he lost Tang Shen, the pain still cut fresh through his chest. Her words burned fresh in his mind as if they were only spoken yesterday. Sighing, he wanted to gaze out of the window and lose himself in the splendor of the sunlight glistening off of the skyscrapers, but instead he kept his sights forward as if unfazed by any of the distractions the world threw at him. So he sat in silence as his driver pulled up to the front of his home. As he entered the housekeeper greeted him though he barely registered her voice. Saki walked as if blinders tunneled his vision, keeping his sights on the only important thing left in his life yet he was unsure of what exactly awaited him.

Saki had been entrenched in a high stake negotiation. His ninja training served well in teaching intimidation and how to outwit opponents in hand-to-hand combat. The battle of words, however, was not exactly a skill he practiced in his life. After the fight with Yoshi, Saki sought to establish himself as a business man. He rebuilt the Foot Clan and quickly built up his empire by establishing his dominance over the various yakuza. Now he needed expand his reach outside of Japan, but competing on a more global scale required more resources. One such resource was the much needed upgrades in modern weaponry, however the Russians were a stubborn bunch and the meeting was deadlocked in a stalemate. Saki was still young and inexperienced; Ivan Steranko saw no reason to take the disfigured man in front of him serious. Saki was not deterred for he did have one trump card up his sleeve…it just required a lot of sake. Russians certainly held their liquor well but Steranko was starting to get more comfortable and his tongue loosened its hold on negation terms. The deal began moving forward again…until the door slammed open and Saki’s assistant immediately was by his side.

“Boss, you have an urgent call.” 

Saki dismissed with a quick flick of his wrist and turned his attention back to his potential new partners.

“It’s from the school…”

A long bout of silence lingered in the conference room. Saki clenched his fist slightly around the arm of his chair but kept his face stoic. He could not show weakness now nor could talks continue at this time. Rescheduling to resume talks the next morning was a lot easier than he had expected and thanked alcohol for potentially saving the deal. The conversation with the principal was short and stuck merely to the facts. After hanging up the phone thoughts of the arms deal was replaced by the incident involving his daughter. Now he stood outside of her bedroom door unsure of what was awaiting him on the other side.

“Karai?” he questioned calmly as he gently knocked on her door.

No response except for soft sniffles. Saki twisted the knob and let himself in. His vision was immediately assaulted by all things kawaii. Soft purple walls imbued serenity; the hue even began soothing his frayed nerves. Along the walls, shelving held various Sanrio characters as if they were trophies but in reality were mementos of Shen. She had such an affinity for anything cute. Karai did not share the same attraction as bubbly, daydreaming girls. Actually she was far more fascinated in strong anime heroines and role played in adventurous exploits. Yet she now sat on her bed, embracing one of her overgrown stuffed Hello Kitty dolls, burying her face deep into the plush. This habit tended to resurface whenever Karai sought out a surrogacy for her mother’s love.

Saki walked over to the bed and sat down next to her. Karai was pushed up under the shift in weight distribution but still made no effort to look at him.

“Your principal called,” he stated matter-of-factly. 

“Hm,” Karai replied, refusing to lift her face out of the white, fluffy cat. She pressed so hard that Saki feared her face would be forever imprinted in the toy.

“Would you like to hear his accounts of how your day went…or would you prefer presenting your side of the story?”

“He deserved it,” came the muttered reply.

“As well I am sure he did, but that does not answer why you pushed the boy?”

Twisting her head slightly, Karai revealed one deep brown eye and gave herself enough room to breathe and talk properly.

“Daisuke insulted mother. He said I was so not likable that I broke her heart and that’s why she died. I was so mad. I told him to shut up and pushed him. I didn’t mean for him to bang his head. Mama would be disappointed in me.”

“Your mother would be proud that you stood up for yourself and tried to defend her honor.”

A sharp snort puffed out of Karai’s nostrils while she mumbled, “Sure, stood up for myself.” 

Saki’s right eyebrow (that is, before it had been singed off) quirked up.

“Is there something else you care to add?”

“I’m a such weakling. I can’t even defend myself properly.”

Saki’s mind raked through his long term memory for some sage proverb on the power of words - a weapon mightier than any katana - until Karai lifted her head up completely, exposing a cut on her forehead. His hand immediately pushed her ebony bangs to the side, fully revealing the injury.

“What is this? Your principal said nothing about you being injured.”

“It happened after school,” she curtly replied, jerking her head back. “Daisuke cornered me, told me no one can protect me now. I told him to go away. Said I’d tell my father if he didn’t leave me alone. He said ‘daddy ain’t here to save you.’ Then he flung a rock at me. I didn’t even see it coming.”

Tears welled up. Blinking rapidly, Karai resisted the urge to let them fall. She feared appearing vulnerable. Saki wrapped an arm around her slim shoulders and pulled her close.

“Who is the boy’s family? I’ll be sure to speak with his parents…”

“No!” Karai pushed away to stare deep into his eyes. The chocolate brown orbs burned with a determined fire. “No more talking! Daisuke was right. You weren’t there. What about if you’re not around again?! Those kids at school don’t like me. They’re always picking on me, calling me rich, spoiled brat. Keep calling me a dirty Chinese. You have talked to Miss Yamada and it hasn’t changed…it’ll never change. Now they’re throwing things at me. Words can’t protect me from that. Father, please, you need to teach me ninjitsu.”

And there it was. Saki saw it rolling in like a train wreck in slow motion. This was not the first time she begged to learn the ancient arts, but Saki adamantly refused, which usually resulted in the incessant questioning of why, declaration of things not being fair, and accusations of “it’s because I’m girl isn’t it?” He could not bring himself to dishonor Shen’s memory. Saki knew her stance on ninjitsu; he heard it with his own ear. That day he had almost walked in on Shen and Yoshi’s conversation about the future and how to raise her daughter. She was insistent that the ninja life was no life for her little girl. She was right. Saki held hope that Shen would have opened her eyes to the fact Yoshi’s interests greatly contradicted hers. Yoshi had no intention of abandoning the clan. Saki would have given her the life she craved and deserved. He was so certain Shen would have taken his offer to leave everything behind and start over…with him.

“Karai, we have talked about this already…”

“But, Father!” she whined as if she was in a candy store but was deprived of a treat. “If I had known ninjitsu I could have seen the rock coming. I could have moved. I can’t protect myself with words alone.”

Saki resisted the urge to groan, rub his temple, or falter on any level. Karai came armed to this verbal spar and he needed to maintain control of the situation.

“Ninjitsu is not for children…”

“That’s crap! You trained when you were a kid.”

“Watch your language!” Saki bellowed as he rose to his feet. Karai winced at his tone; she hunching her shoulders a bit as if afraid he would strike. 

“The answer is no and that is final. This conversation will not happen again. Understood?”

Instead of answering, Karai flopped face down, burying her face into her pillow. Muffled grumbles of “if mother knew ninjistu she wouldn’t have died” fluttered into his ears, giving him slight pause as he walked toward the bedroom door. However without pressing the matter further, Saki promptly left the room, slamming the door behind him. 

The rest of the night Saki’s heart sat heavy in his chest. Dinner with Karai was a tense silence with Saki mostly watching Karai play with her food, pushing it around her plate and none entering her mouth. She refused to make eye contact while stabbing her chopsticks into her rice. When Saki finally excused her from the table, Karai stomped out with little balled fists by her side. If he had the energy, he would have lectured her on her table manners or her temper but his mind was preoccupied, mulling over Karai’s words.

_‘I can’t protect myself with words.’_

Those words even haunted him when he tried to sleep. Instead he stared at the ceiling, replaying the conversation. Her determination and ability to rationalize the situation reminded him so much of her mother. Then his mind wandered back to that night at the dojo. The fire. The pain in her eyes. The blood.

Frustrated that sleep kept eluding him, Saki flipped the sheets back and bee-lined for the door connecting to an adjacent room. After opening the door, Saki slowed his pace as if entering into a sacred temple. This was close; this was his sanctuary. His place of quiet and reflection. Most importantly, it held Shen’s shrine. A low table held her picture with little dishes to hold offerings. Saki pulled out a few incense sticks and lit them. Pressing them between his hands, he offered a prayer and placed the incense into the holder. He stared at Shen’s image and sighed.

“Shen,” he whispered but then hesitated as if he might say the wrong words, afraid she will judge him. “Karai reminds me so much of you. So beautiful and so strong willed. We had a fight today and she would not speak to me the rest of the evening, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized she was right. Shen, I know you never wanted Karai to fall into the life of the ninja. While you were right that the ninja lifestyle that is not fit for our daughter, I fear that she will never escape it either. When you entered into my life, your fate had been sealed and Karai was destined to be born into the clan. The world is unkind to the most innocent. Even if she could be afforded a normal life, her safety cannot be guaranteed. The other day a teen girl had been raped – again – by another American. People will never respect the sanctity of humanity and Karai will not be immune from this disease. But…but I can give her the tools to at least protect herself. Therefore I must ask for your forgiveness for I will teach Karai ninjitsu. Please understand that this will be for her own good as I will not and cannot be around forever to protect her. Just like I was not able to protect you.”

Pressing his hands together in front of his face, Saki ended his conversation with a final prayer and blew out the incense. With his conscience still not at ease, Saki decided that herbal tea would remedy his sleeplessness and proceeded toward the kitchen. As he proceeded down the hallway and passed by his personal dojo (like how one might have an at home gym) high pitched grunts and soft poundings passed through the closed doors. Due to his partial blindness, Saki’s hearing had heightened over the past few years, so the sound did not escape his attention. Cracking the door open he spied Karai punching the kicking bag though the heavy bag refused to sway from her strikes. Karai punched again however she flinched her hand back immediately after striking and then shook it as if it was on fire.

“Karai? Why are you up?”

The little girl jumped at his booming voice. She spun around, hiding her hands behind her back. Biting her lip sheepishly, her eyes stared straight at the ground as if awaiting punishment for her transgression.

“Uh…,” she started while still searching for her words.

“Why are your hands hiding behind your back?” Saki curiously inquired. He tilted his head to the side as if attempting to see behind Karai.

Pulling her body back to block his vision, Karai refused to draw out her hands. Saki huffed softly at her stubbornness then stepped forward and kneeled in front of her.

“Let me see.”

As her tiny hands came around Saki noticed the abrasions on her knuckles. Skin had rubbed off leaving it red and raw with little cracks where blood speckles tried to seep out. Saki studied the dainty hands a bit longer before letting go. He then raised his hands up with palms open.

“Punch me,” he commanded.

Karai’s widened in surprise at his request.

“Punch me,” he calmly repeated.

With a slight hesitation, Karai positioned herself in a sloppy stance and took aim. She twisted her body too far back before driving a closed fist into Saki’s large hand. As soon as her fist connected, Saki quickly closed his hand around hers while grabbing her wrist with his free hand. Karai gasped as she was locked into place and shot him a quizzical look. Opening his hand, he revealed how Karai’s knuckles attempted to drive into his palm, pushing her wrist back a bit.

“This is your problem. Your wrist is not locked into place properly. Not only are your knuckles unprotected but you can injure your wrist this way as well.”

He demonstrated the accuracy in his statement by pushing her fist against his hand so she could observe how her hand bent back. Saki then bent her wrist down a bit so the flat of her first was flushed against his palm.

“Look at this now.”

Obediently, Karai craned her neck to view the difference.

“You want to strike like this. Your enemy will receive the maximum force of the blow while you are not harmed.”

The child nodded as she tapped her fist against Saki’s palm to feel the difference in the technique. Saki then let her hand go and grasped her gently by the shoulders.

“Karai, I thought about what you said and you were right. The world is unkind and there may be times where you may need to physically protect yourself….”

Chocolate eyes widened in anticipation.

“…I will teach you martial arts, but you must promise you will use your skill only in self-defense. Understood?”

“Hai!”

Saki smiled gently at the child’s excitement but informed her that lessons could not begin until she had a good night’s rest. Karai wrapped Saki’s neck in a tight embrace before scurrying off to her bedroom. Left alone in the dojo, Saki stood and began to visualize how he would proceed training Karai, formulating the lesson plan for the next day.

_Ninja may no longer have a place in modern society but the ancient ways must also never die. I failed to protect you, Shen, but I refuse to allow Karai to be vulnerable to the world’s unforgiving cruelty. It is time she learned the ways of her forefathers and when the sun rises, its rays will smile on the birth of a new kunoichi._


End file.
